Birdy Bardot’s second album gets a little louder, weirder

San Diego’s The Redwoods Music collective are a uniquely talented bunch, not simply because they’re good at writing songs and playing instruments—which is absolutely true. More than that, they create a particular vibe that bears an unusual signature. All of their recordings feel warm and lived-in, the kinds of records that emit a particular richness and vintage sensibility, even when heard through shitty earbuds over a Spotify stream. Some of that can be attributed to the engineering, mixing and mastering, of course, but a lot of it is the music itself: Their songs are just dripping with muscle, sweat and soul.

Birdy Bardot’s self-titled debut album from 2015 was one of the best examples of this aesthetic, her dynamic vocal presence guiding two sides of rock, pop and folk with traces of R&B and psychedelia that put a fresh spin on classic styles. With follow-up, II, Birdy and her band of Redwoods backing players deliver another 40 minutes of similarly compelling pop music, some of which more overtly nods to ‘60s Stax singles and some of which goes to much weirder places altogether.

Leadoff track “Either Way” is a simple song, almost radically so; Bardot’s vocals essentially carry the melody against sustained organ drones, a one-note piano hook and a deep bass groove. It’s a song built around open spaces, which allow the title star to shine, however subtle her delivery. And that’s part of what makes Birdy Bardot an interesting vocalist. Her range is undeniable, but she works well within a nuanced approach, often saving her most dramatic moments for a well-earned climax.

By and large, II is louder and more muscular than its predecessor, which leads to a pretty fun listen overall. “Fortune” has a distorted, bluesy strut, while “Slowly Know Me” is a darkly seductive psych-rock dirge that finds Birdy and The Redwoods taking a trip through a particularly cool rabbit hole. “Tell Me When It’s Done” builds up over five minutes into a powerful rock anthem, and “Through the Dark,” much like the album’s opener, finds its groove in minimal, almost krautrock-like grooves. Like I said, things definitely get weirder on this album, which is always a development worth celebrating. Birdy Bardot is a versatile vocalist, and it’s cool to hear how well her presence is complemented by a more experimental approach.